


Slither

by sewn



Category: The Shannara Chronicles (TV)
Genre: Anal Gaping, Episode: s02e04, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Implied desire for incest, Mind Control, Other, Tentacle Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:53:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23820388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sewn/pseuds/sewn
Summary: What did he tell her just before it attacked them? That this creature lived off of pain… but she’s starting to think it craves something else as well.
Relationships: Allanon/Mareth (Shannara), Allanon/The Dweller (Shannara), Mareth/The Dweller (Shannara)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Slither

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we go again with my favorite druid incest ship, though this has only implied incestuous vibes. A missing scene of sorts, inspired by the Dweller episode. Thanks to [swingrlm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swingrlm) for brainstorming!

Mareth stumbles through the darkness. She wishes she had her torch, because she can’t concentrate for her life. If only she could control her powers better. Sometimes she can summon up a wall of fire but now she’s so disoriented she can’t even create a little spark.

She almost falls on her face when the cold stone wall she’s been following ends. She must have found a cave.

She can more smell and feel it before she sees it. There’s a damp, oddly sweet smell in the air, carried by a cool draft. When she drops to her knees to feel around the ground, her fingertips meet something slimy. Disgusted, she pulls her hand back.

When she looks up again, she begins to see shapes in the darkness, brought out by a dim green light. Straining her sharp elven eyes, she approaches slowly. As she gets deeper into the cave, the glow emitted by something growing in the ceiling gets stronger, and suddenly it’s bright enough for her to see exactly what’s happening.

The mysterious creature that had knocked her down and dragged Allanon away is hunched in a ball like a giant spider, its teeth and eyes hidden, but when Mareth takes a step closer, tentacles emerge from its body. Some are big, some small, and before she can think they have surrounded her and Allanon’s unconscious body, which the creature has dropped on the cave floor.

In the blink of an eye, she is trapped, her legs wrapped tight. Her cloak is forcefully pulled off and slung somewhere in the darkness. Something cold touches her thigh. When she flinches, she feels she can’t move her feet an inch, and when she glances down she sees a slimy tentacle snaking up. When she raises her hand in a weak attempt to burn the thing, another grabs her wrist, then the other, so her hands are quickly tied behind her back.

The cold slithering thing pushes under her short pants.

Mareth holds her breath, expecting it to hurt her, but it doesn’t move further. Instead, the tentacles around Allanon move. They flip him on his stomach and begin to prod at him, make their way under his clothes and tear them off. Even the protective runes adorning his heavy leather coat have no effect on it. The tentacles are slimy and malleable, efficient, and soon they have divested him of his coat and boots. As one begins to tug at his shirt, Mareth almost yelps.

The tentacle in her pants moves slowly up and then between her legs. Her muscles tighten in shock, but the monster pushes the tip of the tentacle inside her.

She waits for it to hurt. It still doesn’t. Slowly, the tentacle pushes further and further, so slippery that there’s no resistance until she begins to feel full. It doesn’t feel cold anymore; it feels hot, a living pulsing thing inside her. Mareth should be disgusted, be more afraid, but it only feels _good_. It doesn’t feel like a good idea to struggle. She somehow knows it means no harm to her.

Now that it has her subdued, the creature turns its attention to her father again.

She watches, rapt, as it rips the belt of his trousers off. Its tentacles are surprisingly deft and supple, and it works the rest of his clothes off quickly. Just as quick, the tentacles hold him by the ankles and spread them. It also traps his wrists against the ground, and keeps one tentacle on his back. The small tip of the tentacle touches one of the runes carved in his skin, like it’s curious.

That’s when Allanon finally comes to. Mareth’s attention is drawn to his face. He’s still half unconscious, his mouth hanging open. He looks vulnerable, surprisingly young, with his big eyes widened in horror, looking frantically around until his gaze locks with Mareth.

She should feel horrified, but all she can think is that he looks good. It’s shameful, but she can’t help it as the creature forces his legs apart. As his mouth parts in a weak shout, she almost makes noise as well. The tentacle inside her seems to catch on to her arousal and it moves, like a wave, rubbing just where she needs it.

The creature keeps Allanon in full view of her as it does to him exactly what she’s anticipating.

He doesn’t stop fighting back. The tentacles have his legs in a tight hold, spread all nice and wide, but he writhes, trying desperately to break free. His struggling earns him nothing, but it accentuates his muscles, as his thighs strain and hips undulate. She can’t quite tear her eyes off of his backside, how spread it is, and the dark glistening tentacles working their way into him.

It’s like the monster is putting on a show just for her.

What did he tell her just before it attacked them? That this creature lived off of pain… but she’s starting to think it craves something else as well.

Almost as a confirmation, the tentacle inside her strokes a spot that makes all her muscles tighten and throat close up as she tries not to make a sound. With its other limbs, the creature keeps working her father over. It’s pushed multiple tentacles inside him now, moving them in and out, and uses another to slither up his spine and around his neck.

For a moment she fears it’s going to strangle him, but it makes its way into his mouth instead, a living gag.

She can’t help the twitch inside her. She follows as the tentacle fills up his cheeks, then moves deeper. She can _see_ its movement as it makes his throat bulge. She’d wonder if he can breathe if the pulsing weight inside her wasn’t so distracting. Without realizing, she’s begun to move her hips to get more friction. The monster seems to agree with her as the tentacle moves in little thrusts.

Right when she thinks about how she’s not seeing all that’s going on between his legs, the creature grabs him tighter and drags him to another position, turning him so she sees him from behind. She can now see there are three whole tentacles inside him, all shiny and slithering, pushing in and out, deeper and deeper. The skin around his hole is red, clearly stretched, wet with the creature’s slime.

She imagines how it must hurt him to be so forcefully filled, how the rim of his hole must ache. She can’t help but think about how it would feel to touch that stretched entrance and run her fingers around and push them in alongside the tentacles.

As soon as she thinks it, there’s another, smaller tentacle sliding up his side and joining the bigger ones, teasing his already bursting asshole.

She is horrified, knowing she must be causing this, like guiding the monster. Instantly, she tries to fight her next thoughts, but it’s useless trying not to think what you don’t want to think. It’s like the creature sucks all of her deepest fantasies out of her. First, it keeps on filling him up, fucking him until he finally seems to give up fighting. His arms go limp, but the creature holds him up. Soon, his body is tensing up again: one tentacle has gripped his cock.

She thinks the monster might give up after making him come, but it doesn’t stop. It works him again and again, fucking him while forcing his cock to react. She can’t see him coming, covered with the tentacle, but she can tell from the way he strains against the hold and the muted sounds.

As harsh as the creature is with him, it treats her gently, bringing her to the edge of overwhelming pleasure and letting it recede. There is almost something _sweet_ about the way it tickles her belly when it works another tentacle under her clothes.

Finally, the creature tires with the forced orgasms, maybe having milked him dry. All the tentacles release Allanon and he gasps for air convulsively, like he’s just been saved from choking. She thinks this might be finally the end - it’s had its fun and is going to either kill them or let them go - but then it grabs him by the ankle again and flips him onto his back. Allanon isn’t even trying to resist as it arranges him so his knees are up and she can see his used hole. It’s so stretched it’s still gaping, a mean red color. His cock is red too, the skin is covered in welts from the tight grip. His stomach and chest have rubbed against the hard floor and there are little cuts all over. She thought he must have passed out again, but his eyes are open and he meets her gaze again.

There’s fear in his eyes, but also something else - protectiveness. The reason the monster caught him first is that he threw himself at it before it could get to Mareth.

She feels hot and cold all over. Even if he doesn’t believe she is his daughter, he still sacrificed himself for her. Only to have her thank him like this.

Mareth anticipates the tentacles to fill him again, but first, one of the tentacles shoots up. She can see its flipside, and suddenly little spikes shoot out of it, like needle-sharp teeth. It turns in the air like it’s showing itself to her before diving down and moving up his chest. There’s no doubt what it’s doing as it stops at his nipple and sucks the skin into its hold.

She thought he’d be too tired and hurt to react, but his body convulses with another shot of pain. Her gaze is drawn back between his legs and the way his abused flesh is tightening and opening up again as the monster toys with his skin. The creature keeps his knees raised and pulls his soft cock and balls out of the way, making sure she sees it all. Some of its slime trickles out in little pulses. Allanon must be overstimulated beyond belief now but the monster shows no sign of tiring. It takes his cock again and slips one tentacle into him, clearly so she can see his asshole flutter around the one thin appendage that now isn’t nearly enough to fill him. 

Meanwhile it keeps petting and stroking Mareth inside and outside, its rhythm perfect, drawing little circles on the sensitive skin on her neck and thighs, lulling her into a fog of arousal.

In the end, it’s the sight of his mouth parting in a hoarse yell and fingers twitching that makes her fall over the edge into an orgasm. It’s so satisfying to finally come after all the creature has given to her that she wishes it could go on forever. It does come to an end though, and still hazy with the pleasure, she finds herself let go on the floor slowly and gently. When the tentacles leave her, she almost misses their touch.

Glancing at herself, Mareth sees her clothes are still intact and there are no marks anywhere. Only her shorts are a bit wet.

The same cannot be said for her father. When the monster retreats, Allanon slumps down on the floor, immobile, on his back. The mass of tentacles slithers away into the darkness and they are alone in the green glow that is slowly dying.

Mareth stumbles over to Allanon, relieved to find him still breathing. His lips are rubbed raw and there is blood trickling out of little holes in his skin everywhere. His wrists and neck are covered in red stripes.

”Hey,” she says quietly, shaking him gently. ”I’m going to get us out of here, okay?”

As she begins to gather his clothes, Mareth tries her best not to think about what happens when they’re out of here and he is healed and can read her mind again.


End file.
